


Peer Review

by mischief5



Series: Declassification [10]
Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Crack, Declassification, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 18:29:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 491
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1951638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischief5/pseuds/mischief5
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rodney impatiently awaits his fifteen minutes of fame.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Peer Review

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Scientific Canadian](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1929774) by [esteefee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/esteefee), [mischief5](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mischief5/pseuds/mischief5). 
  * Inspired by [The Tale of the Seven Waiters](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1924623) by [esteefee](https://archiveofourown.org/users/esteefee/pseuds/esteefee). 



Rodney stomped into the conference room and slapped his tablet down on the table. No one even bothered to look up at him. He frowned and stared.

Ronon, one booted foot marring Woolsey's precious imported wood, flipped idly through _People_ magazine, the one with his picture on the cover. Teyla traced a careful finger down the page she was reading from _Time_ , and John lazily traded _GQ_ for _Aviation Week_. Woolsey leaned back in his chair, put his polished Prada loafer up next to Ronon's worn boot, and hummed over an article in _The New Yorker._

"It's not fair!" Rodney announced. "You're all splashed across every magazine and newspaper in the country and I have to wait for peer review."

"Who's Jessica Simpson?" Ronon asked.

"A singer, I believe," Teyla replied.

"Singer," John said.

"A _popular_ singer," Woolsey amended. "Certainly not classically trained."

Rodney dropped into a chair and hid his face in his hands. "Oh my god, can you not hear yourselves?" He grabbed John's _GQ_ and shook it at them. "This is important. I have to wait a month before I'm published because these morons here on Earth can't keep up with me, and those here on Atlantis who can—barely—have already picked my work apart—"

"Rodney…" John said mildly, still reading.

"—and why does that stupid journal only publish once a month anyway? This is groundbreaking science—"

"That you cribbed from the Ancients," John said.

Rodney flushed. "That is entirely beside the point."

Ronon shrugged. "Chill, McKay. You'll get your turn."

:::

Rodney hustled into the conference room and barely heard Woolsey's harrumph of reprimand. "It's here. It's finally here!" He set the wrapped package down on the table and opened it. Several copies of _Scientific American_ spilled out. 

He took a quick look and moaned, dismayed, as Ronon passed them around the table.

"Well." Woolsey cleared his throat. "I can see you tried not to look smug in the photo shoot."

Teyla said kindly, "It is an excellent quality photograph."

John folded over his left arm and laughed like a dying Muppet. "They gave you a halo," he wheezed out.

Rodney stuck his hands in his armpits and scowled. "Yes, an atomic halo. I see that clearly. If this is Tyson's idea of a joke—"

"A halo," John whimpered between gasps.

"—if Nye bribed someone—"

"Colonel Sheppard, please," Woolsey said with a modicum of sternness. Rodney swore he saw a tiny smirk hidden by Woolsey's hand.

"A halo." If Sheppard didn't breathe soon, he was risking a hernia.

"And just in case no one noticed, I'm Canadian, not American—"

"Is that what those patches mean?" Ronon asked. 

Rodney shot him a look meant to kill. 

"The cover is quite colorful," Teyla said, her voice soothing and diplomatic. Rodney started to relax. "But what is the significance of the rainbow?"

Woolsey put his hand over his face, John fell out of his chair, and Rodney—Rodney gave up.


End file.
